Dream Wardrobe
by kbeto
Summary: Dougie's blessed with an unexpected inheritance, Harry's being a supportive boyfriend, Danny and Tom are just there on the receiving end of too much information. Whoever said money can't buy dreams, certainly didn't have the same kind of dream as Dougie. Pudd with 1% of Flones, inappropriate puns all around with a strong touch of veiled perviness, rated T for the veiled part.


_Disclaimer: No money, no harm, just love!_

_A/N: Ugh, this started as a Sterek piece, but then I realised halfway through that I had Dougie and Harry instead of Stiles and Derek! *sighs* I shouldn't be that emotionally attached to this fandom, it will only cause me pain._

_Many thanks to the beautiful **Galaxy-Defending-Hopeful** for providing me some inspiration with her work (The Leadership), and also **CassandraHolly** for one of my favourite stories (The one with the maid outfit)._

_**Anonymous**__ The worst part is that we don't even have enough people to produce stories, so you can imagine how bad is it to have so many incomplete works floating around. :(_

_Of course, you can count on Tom to be our resident fanboy! Haha! And yeah, I really think that most (if not all) of Poynterini's tricks would involve vanishing trousers and feeling bums up, too. Poor Harry, he's always the one getting sucked into those situations. What a rotten luck! (Or maybe it's just me having a profound love of putting him through all that.)_

Dream Wardrobe

Considering that he expected the mail he just received to be bad news, Dougie found himself staring blankly at the paper in his hands with no reaction whatsoever. Despite of reading the contents of the letter five times in a row, nothing really sank in.

"Dougs? What's wrong?" Harry put a hand on the boy's shoulder, trying to gain his attention. "Is everything all right?"

"My great-uncle died." The answer came out in a barely audible whisper, even to Harry, who had been directly behind Dougie. As soon as the words left his lips, a pair of strong, warm arms hugged the Dougie's neck, a mop of black hair resting against a mop of fair hair.

"Sorry to hear that. Is that what the letter says?"

"Nope, I didn't even know him..." Dougie trailed off, turning around in their hug, so that he could face Harry from a obscenely short distance. "It seems that he left me a small shop, though."

~#~

"Is that it? At least we know he's _really_ related to you," Harry said, slamming the door to his car shut. He decided to go with Dougie (in case the whole thing turned out to be a fraud), driving themselves across the country to a little town where they'd found an old shop called "Dream Wardrobe" that sold costumes. _Adult_ costumes.

"Let's cross our fingers and maybe we can find some _toys_ for sale, as well," Dougie grinned, producing a large key ring from his pocket and trudging towards the entrance.

It seemed that he could barely contain all the excitement –not in _that_ way. Although Harry wouldn't be surprised if in _that_ way, too– in his body, whilst at the same time trying hard to remain calm about what he would find inside the place. From the outside it seemed really cosy, with a few mannequins in the window that could be seen through some sort of curtains draped on the inner portion.

With a turn of the biggest key in his possession, Dougie pushed the wooden door open, the creaking sound of hinges piercing their ears in the worst horror film style possible. He turned to look at Harry with wide eyes, hesitating for a second, but eventually entered the space when he felt a familiar hand entwine fingers with his.

"What now?" Harry surveyed their surroundings, eyes scanning around for shelves and more shelves of props, racks with dozens of female and male costumes, two small cabins working as changing rooms, a wooden counter with an old looking cash register and a door in the back leading to a small, dark room. "And why do I feel I'm the only one wondering about all this stuff?"

"Because I'm only interested in knowing if we can find anything _useful_ here!"

"I know that in your eye, _Douglas,"_ Harry frowned, taking a cautious step behind. "You're up to no good."

~#~

"I can't wait all day, Haz!"

"I'm coming, can't you wait a bit?"

"You better _not_ be," Dougie warned with a serious tone. "Not _without_ me, at least!"

"Why do you always distort _everything_ I say?" Harry sighed, opening the door to his cabin.

He couldn't tell you –even if he wanted to– how Dougie always convinced him of doing such things, but again, not too many people could resist a request from that angelic face. Except for Tom. Their older mate was probably the only exception, though Tom also being a master in convincing people with his puppy look surely conceded him some immunity of sorts.

"I say we started very well," Dougie relaxed back in a chair he fetched from the small room in the back, eyes sweeping over Harry's figure in a Top Gun flight suit. He looked so much better than Tom Cruise, the uniform slightly fitted around his thighs and bum, and sunglasses to give him an authentic appearance. "Thank you, Granduncle John!"

"Yeah, thank you for making me a model for Dougie's fantasies," Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. Not that Dougie would know about the eye roll, but it was already a natural reaction for him, reason why he did anyway. "Let's finish this before I regret everything."

"How can I not comply when you're dressed like that?"

~#~

Dougie acquired a kink for dressing up, that was the conclusion Harry came to. All other costumes the now shop owner chose for him seemed to get increasingly more revealing and too sexual to be considered for any use other than inside the four walls of a bedroom. He had reached a point where he wouldn't be surprised if they _actually_ found boxes of sex toys lying around.

After the Top Gun one, Harry further dressed as a pilot, a police officer, a firefighter, a hot 'Scottie', a boxer, and a cowboy. To most of those he had something to complain about, though Dougie wasn't really listening to any of it, too busy trying not to fondle himself.

The pilot was tamest of all, complete with cap and sunglasses, not much to say and he even looked authentic. The police officer had shorts too _tight_ and too _short_ for him to chase anyone. A hose and suspenders accompanied the firefighter one, not to mention the fly was non-existent, resting just above Harry's parts and exposing his underwear easily. 'Scottie' had traditional clothes, but lacked a top and his kilt –Dougie even complained about Harry wearing underwear with that– was way too high above the knee. Tight and short shorts made an appearance again, this time for the boxer.

"_What about the cowboy costume?"_ Well, that's when Harry really snapped. He didn't even get to wear that one, in fact.

"I'm not– I'll be in our hotel room if you need my help," the muscular brunet shoved the outrageous costume in Dougie's arm, pulled his trousers and top on, and stormed outside the shop and inside his car.

"Maybe it's not really his size?" Dougie wondered out loud, holding the cow-patterned piece in hands. Said trousers missed everything in between its legs, giving full access to one's bottom and front. No wonder Harry got so offended after having his patient being tested with all those scant clothes. "I guess I should do something to cheer him up..."

~#~

"_We need to talk. Come out when you're finished, okay?"_

"Yeah," Harry replied disinterested, finishing his shower. He didn't mean to snap that way, and he should know Dougie better after all those years of relationship, but sometimes it seemed like all that he was good for was being a pretty face with a nice body, and he loathed feeling like that.

He draped a towel around his waist and dried his hair with a smaller one that should be used to dry hands, leaving the clothe covering his head and unlocking the door using his free hand. Seconds later, when he removed the towel blocking his vision, Harry's breath hitched in his throat presented with the vision of Dougie knelt down searching for something under their bed.

"Sorry, that thing keeps running from me," the blond got up, noticing the presence behind him. Dougie had a pair of cat ears in his hands that he promptly put on. "What you think?"

Dougie is dressed in a black maid dress, complete with white apron tied in a big lace on his back, the skirt portion so short that, at the least movement, it reeled up and exposed his behind. The outfit was completed by knee white socks, classic black shoes, and –Harry could tell from his view minutes earlier– lacy white pants that didn't cover Dougie's perky bum.

"I don't understand–"

"It was unfair to be the only one enjoying your little show, I figured out I should thank you for coming with me and everything else," Dougie shrugged. "I was also hoping you would help me get this thing off. I can tell you liked my surprise."

Harry felt the blood that had rushed south come back to his face, seeing the tent in his towel that Dougie had pointed to. _"Traitor body,"_ he slapped himself mentally, his eyes returning to gaze at his boyfriend, who just grinned at him with a knowing look. "Maybe I'll have to thank Great-uncle John, after all."

"That can wait till we finish some other _business_," Dougie enticed Harry by guiding the other boy's hand underneath his skirt to grab his bare cheeks, whilst exposing his neck for a better access. "Just think that we're going to try so many other costumes out," he bit his bottom lip, feeling Harry press firmly against him and nibble his ear in response to his statement.

~#~

"Is tha' Harry?" Danny asked Tom, from his spot on the sofa. Tom's phone went off with a text received from somebody, and he assumed it to be one of his mates.

"It's his number, yes, but I think Dougie sent this one," Tom held the phone in front of Danny, showing him a pic of Dougie dressed in a cat-girl/maid outfit along with a message that read 'Getting serviced tonight'.

"Maybe we should visit Dougs' shop one day, too." His blue eyes lit up with mischief, lips curving upwards in a sly grin.

"Only in your dreams I'll be dressing like that, Jones," Tom put the phone away, shaking his head, as well as ignoring a large hand roaming up his thigh.

~Fin~

_A/N: Prompt was "Imagine Person A of your OTP spending an entire day making Person B dress up in different costumes for their own amusement. The costumes become progressively more sexy until Person B becomes so flustered and fed up and they throw the last costume at Person A and leave."_


End file.
